Clicking Clocks
by Storywhisper
Summary: A grown up Charlie finally realizes that his mentor isn't as young as he looks. Hints of slash.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Well, it's 2011. I decided that this year I'll attempt to clean up some of my older stories; this one is the start (I'm not stalling on finishing the other's, really I'm not!) :D

Anyway, this story was basically completely re-written after I had a good look at it. I like this version better and I hope you do as well.

Onward!

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Chapter 1

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Warning: Suggestive slash tones.

-  
Clicking Clocks

Children can hardly be expected to understand the matter of aging. Some children might look forward to their birthdays and the idea of being another year older; others may not and dread it with every fiber of their being.

Charlie Bucket was a mixture of both of those; he enjoyed his birthday now more so than ever before. The fact was: Each birthday morning he woke with the full knowledge that Mr. Wonka would have had the Oompa Loompa's prepare a marvelous breakfast which he would eat with his parents and the older man.  
They would then go down into the Chocolate Room and open the mountain of gifts laid out there like a dream.

The gifts were wonderful, Charlie would never say or think otherwise, but the best part of it was watching the wide smiles on the faces of people he loved.

But Charlie also understood the other thing that Birthday's meant: It meant people got older.

His grandparents' had been his favorite people in the world before he met Mr. Wonka, so it came as no surprise to his parents that he mourned horribly when they passed on. Their passing brought with it a fear that Charlie could never quite put into words. It was the fear that the last people he had left would leave him as well.

His birthday's never quite had the same shine to them after his Grandpa Joe died.

As his parents got on in years and he himself grew from boy to man, Charlie couldn't help but notice the fact that a certain Chocolate maker seemed to be standing still in the flow of time.

Willy Wonka didn't look a day over forty when Charlie Bucket opened his eyes on his thirty-first birthday.

"Will," Charlie called as he stepped into their work station in the Invention Room. The other man had his back to the door, sitting in one of the rolling chairs. A puff of purple smoke drifted lazily into the air when he turned to look at Charlie, lilac eyes gleaming.

"Evening," Willy Wonka greeted as he leaned his head back against the back of the chair, sighing very softly when he noted the distressed expression on Charlie's face. "What's wrong?"

Charlie crossed the room with familiar ease and leaned his hip against the desk, forcing Willy to move his chair again to keep eye contact. "I wanted to invite you out to dinner with me and my parents. I heard they've gone and set me up with another 'nice girl' tonight." He couldn't keep the exasperation from his voice.

Willy's face clouded over for half a second before blanking completely. "Ah, well, thank you but…"

"But" Charlie finished, "you wont be able to attend? What excuse do you have this time?" he cocked his head to the side and tried for humor but his annoyance was clear.

Willy let out a loud sigh and shook his head. "I have to get these candies ready for marketing… and they're not even close." He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"The candies will still be there in the morning and there is actually still a couple months left till were reach the busy season where we're expected to produce a new product." Charlie reminded him. Even as he spoke though, the young man could see that his mentor would not be giving in to his demands of companionship. He squared his shoulders; set on finding out the reason. "Why are you so set on not accompanying me?"

Willy rolled his eyes. "I just gave you a reason."

"No, you gave me an excuse; give me a reason and I'll let you be."

Willy stared at Charlie with his cold eyes for one long second before speaking. "Perhaps it would not be so bad for you to meet this young lady your parents are trying to set you up with." He said in a rush.

Charlie froze. Out of all the answers Willy could have chosen that was the one he least expected to hear. He swallowed once, with some difficulty, and laughed weakly. "You've gone and left me speechless," he managed.

Willy smiled faintly and reached up to pat Charlie's thigh. "Apparently I'm good at that," he murmured. "Charlie, I wont go and spoil a chance for you to be happy. You don't need an old man like me around."

Charlie rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You _look _no older than me." He murmured.

Willy's eyebrows knit together. "Charlie, I'm well into my seventies." He chuckled.

Charlie jerked as though someone had stabbed him with a pencil. "You're kidding me!" he gasped.

Willy leaned back in the chair again, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. "No, I'm not. I'm actually quite old." He shrugged as though there was nothing strange about admitting his age.

Charlie squirmed and shook his head. "Will, I don't…" he couldn't find the works. He struggled to, but there was just none to be found.

Willy reached up once again and patted the man's thigh. "Relax, I don't know any more than you do why I look as I do." He chuckled.

"It shouldn't be possible," Charlie whispered. "it shouldn't…"

"No, but it is." Willy with drew his hand and rubbed it on his coat. A nervous expression danced across his face before he blanked it. "is… this going to be a problem?"

Charlie frowned deeply, realizing what was actually being asked. "Will, I've known since I was a boy that there was something… odd about the way you didn't age; I just didn't really think about how old you must be." He explained. "It… doesn't bother me so much as make me wish I were you and able to be young forever."

Willy shook his head, "It's not a joy or delight for me to be stuck." He looked very distant. "But this is not a conversation to have when you should be going. You'll be very late with the traffic if you don't leave now."

Charlie stared at him for another moment. "Are you sure I can't talk you into coming with me?"

"Crowded places don't agree with me, Charlie." Willy murmured. "But thank you," he absentmindedly touched Charlie's leg again, patting it gently as the young man looked down at him. "really, thank you."

Charlie sighed but nodded, he stood straighter and laid his hand on Willy's shoulder, squeezing lightly before letting his hand drop and heading toward the door. "I wont be late," he called.

Willy closed his eyes and sighed. He waited until he heard the smooth sliding noise of the door closing behind Charlie before he spoke. "I know."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I can't decide if I should continue on with more chapters. Anyone want to weigh on this matter?  
I do very much like Older Charlie and Wonka as a couple :D **

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**Chapter 2 **

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Chapter two  
Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock  
-

"Will," Charlie was frowning when he stared down at the inventor, asleep at his desk in the inventing room. He crossed the small space that housed the two desks and work stations, his gaze lingering on the exhaustion written over the older man's face.

Willy lifted his head enough to give Charlie his attention. "Just resting my eyes." He murmured.

Charlie laid his hand on the velvet covered shoulder, frowning. "Go to bed," he ordered.

Willy chuckled weakly, "Hello," he chided playfully.

"Hello, Will, you look like hell. For God sake go to bed like a normal person!" Charlie grumbled. He smoothed a lock of light brown hair out of the older man's face, studying the reaction he got; which was just a slight flinch.

Willy lightly pushed Charlie's hand away as he sat up straighter. "Things don't invent themselves," he reminded the young man.

Charlie crouched down beside the chair, holding onto the arm to keep his balance. "Will, things wont get done if you get sick." He reminded him. "You'll get sick if you don't get some rest. The world can wait."

Willy chortled. "Charlie, I know the factory would be fine if anything happened to me…" he gave him a serious look.

Charlie nodded his head. "I know everything would be fine with the factory but it wouldn't be fine with me." He touched the older man's arm. "I couldn't… can't stand seeing you sick, Will, it'd break my heart in two if you got sick trying to do too much."

Willy blinked in surprise. "Charlie…"

Charlie sighed. "Willy, please." He pleaded.

Willy closed his eyes. "That's not fair, you know I hate that face."

Charlie smiled just slightly, "Do you?" he teased, cocking his head to the side. "Why I never knew!"

Willy laughed, "You really are horrible. Why did I pick you?" he asked.

"Because I'm the only one who didn't run around and mess things up," Charlie laughed, "that and you love me."

Willy hesitated before smiling faintly. "Then there's that." He added, a bit uncertainly.

Charlie rose to his feet and held out his hand. "Bed?" he suggested.

Willy smiled, "Bed." he agreed, accepting the hand long enough to get to his feet.

They both walked from the room toward the elevator hallway, their footsteps impossibly loud in the strange calm of the night. At this hour many of the machines were sleeping, leaving an empty space where noise should have been.

From somewhere deep within the factory a constant hum echoed through; comforting to the two men as their own heartbeats. As they stood in the elevator, Charlie having pushed the button for the living area of the factory, Willy's head lulled lightly back and forth as he attempted to keep his eyes open.

Charlie noticed his mentor's struggling and, hesitating a moment, reached out and wrapped an arm around the narrow waist.

Willy opened his eyes enough to give the young man a strange look; but his eyes fluttered closed and he leaned his head against the bony shoulder.

Charlie watched the chocolate maker going in and out of sleep as the elevator made a strangely smooth stop at the hallway entrance to the sleeping area. He gently nudged Willy awake. "I'm not carrying you," he chided.

Willy sighed softly, his breath tickling along Charlie's skin, raising Goosebumps in their wake. He nuzzled into the warmth before remembering where he was and who he was with; he pulled back and frowned. "Sorry."

Charlie was grateful for the dim lighting of the hallway, it hid the fact that his face was an bright red color. "Not a problem." He soothed.

Willy stepped out and waited for Charlie to exit the elevator. He pushed a button on the panel display that would send to elevator back down to the only active work level for the time of night it was.

"I left my book in your room," Charlie said, looking over at his mentor. "Mind if I grab it?"

Willy turned to raise an eyebrow but smiled all the same. "Not a problem," he laughed.

They stopped in front of the oak door, Willy opened it; stepping in and held the door long enough for Charlie to catch hold of it, and headed across the room toward his bed.

The room had a classic feel to it. The walls and bed sheets were a beautiful cream color; the floor a smooth dark oak.

When Charlie spotted his book on the window seat; he walked over to collect it. "Night, Will." He called. When he turned around he almost laughed.

Willy was already curled up in bed, sound asleep.

Charlie walked over to the bed, frowning down at the fully clothed man. "Not tired my ass," he murmured. He reached down and gently rolled the man over enough to get the beautiful jacket off of him. He then produced to unlace the knee high boots and set them neatly beside the bed.

As he sat there on the edge of the bed, Charlie frowned. "You'll be the end of me what with all the worrying I do." He hesitated before leaning forward, brushing the lightest of kisses against the pale cheek. "love you," he whispered.

Charlie straightened up and started toward the door. He opened it.

"Love you too." Willy said from the bed, one lilac eye half open.

Charlie smiled and stepped into the hall, the door closing behind him.


End file.
